We won't fade away
by Dreamer-in-the-dark
Summary: Set after 'Not fade away'. My take on what could've happened after that. Ended, because I couldn't think of a believable plot that was any good.
1. Default Chapter

Angel was lost in a world of violence. Whirl, kick, duck, punch, block. It was sort of routine. Kill one, another comes, kill, kill kill... It just went on and on for ever. He was dimly aware of Spike fighting close to his right, and Illyria a little further off and to his left. She was fighting better than he and Spike. She didn't seem to tire easily. But Gunn... Angel couldn't see him anywhere. He wanted to ask Spike, but other that the fact that it would distract the other vampire, there was no way he would be heard.

He felt a wave of heat behind him and realised the dragon was flying overhead. Have to be careful of that fire, he thought grimly.

God, this is useless, Angel began to think. We're not getting anywhere.

As he fought for what seemed like hours, he lost sight of Spike. For all he knew, he could be dead. Angel started to get a strange sensation as he looked at the masses of demons. Although he couldn't see, he got the sense that something was happening behind them.

He fought still, looking up to see where the dragon was. What he saw surprised him. The dragon was writhing in the air, twisting on itself. As it turned, Angel saw that there was someone on its back. As much as he squinted, he couldn't see who it was. But when the shout came, he knew.

"Angel!" Buffy. Angel almost forgot to fight the demons hemming him in as he looked at her struggling with the dragon. She gave him a small nod, and he got back to fighting. She was here to help. And if he knew her, she'd have a hell of a lot of Slayer's backing her up. The only problem was, they were all on the other side of this demonic army. There were only four on this side, and two of those had gone missing.

Buffy did something pretty clever though. She tied a piece of rope to the dragon's neck, and used it as a rein, directing the thing's fiery breath at the centre of the demon army. It wiped out a good 100 or so, before Buffy broke the dragon's neck and it fell down onto the roof of the building next. She jumped off it's still form and leapt into the alley to fight.

* * *

The last demon standing. Everyone was still. Bodies, everywhere. Blood, all colours, but mostly red. It was Kennedy who stepped forwards calmy and ran her sword through the demon. It fell to the floor with a thunk, and everyone just stood. Silence. The rain fell down, mixing with the blood to create a runny, red river that flowed past Angel's feet.

Slowly Buffy walked towards Angel. There was sadness in her eyes. "It's good to see you again."

"And you." The two of them were awkward. Angel wanted so badly just to kiss her, but he knew that was out of the question. "How did you know..."

She tucked a strand of wet hair behind her ear. "My, uh, ex had some information."

"Your ex?"

"The immortal. We broke up." She shifted a little, obviously uncomfortable.

"We should... see to the dead. And find any survivors." She raised her voice at the end to address everyone. She walked away, towards an area where several bodies lay.

The first one was Zoë, a slayer she had trained with. She crouched beside Zoë's body and let the first tear fall. She had forgotten how much she missed Angel. Seeing him brought back so many lost memories... It was so confusing. And now this, this battle. She had got so many girls killed. Zoë had only been fourteen. She shouldn't have been here. Sure, they all volunteered, but none of them really knew what a real battle was like. What a war was like.

Angel retreated into the coolness of the shadows. Dawn was beginning to break. He wondered briefly where Spike was, then felt sadness as he realised Spike was probably a pile of dust. He looked at the huddle of young Slayers carrying their dead comrades and creating a pile in the middle of the alley. There were perhaps 20 or 30 of them. He remembered the first time he saw them all, as the number of demons decreased enough to show him them. Valiant and courageous, all of them. Fighting to the death. Faith was with them, and also Willow. She had not been involved much. A few healing spells whenever she could, a couple of destructive ones now and then. Right now she was looking for the injured, healing them as best she could, or simply resorting to bandages. Angel wanted to go and help them, but the sunlight prevented him. Buffy carried the body of a girl to the heap, and dropped her there.

She walked back to where she had been before. More tears were falling now, and not just because of Angel. Something about this fight, about the people she had seen die was unbearably painful. She felt all the sadness in the world, all the hurt and the grief, and understood it.

Illyria was nearby. She had found Gunn. Dead. She didn't understand but... she felt sadness, and was angered by it. Why should she care if this person was dead. He was just another person. But no, something told her, he was not just another person, he was her friend. Or close to one. He was a comrade. She carried his body to the heap and left it.

Buffy found herself walking to the other part of the alley that was in shadow - the other side of Angel's shadow. She sat down heavily on an old oil barrel. A hand touched her shoulder and she turned. It was Spike. She stared at him for a long time, before she shut her eyes to hold back yet more tears. Spike. Andrew had told her but... Spike. Was here. She remembered their parting. _I love you,_ were the words she had said. Spike had told her she didn't mean them but... was that really true? Maybe she did love him. Perhaps not the same as Angel but there was something there certainly.

Something of her pain must have showed on her face because he backed away a couple of steps and withdrew his hand. "I'm sorry."

Oh God, his voice. She had thought he was dead for so long. She had grieved for him. This was the vampire – the man – who had saved them all. Who had given the ultimate sacrifice to save them all, to save the world. And sure, maybe he came back, but that wasn't the point. The point was, he was willing to. He had intended to die. She stood up slowly and put a hand to his cheek. He stayed still, his blue eyes looking into hers. Buffy leant forwards and kissed him softly. He was stunned at first, but he responded quickly, kissing her with love, but not with passion. This was... well, almost a friendly kiss. A thank you kiss, in Buffy's case.

"Thank you," she whispered, as she drew away.

Spike suddenly collapsed against the wall, and Buffy put out a hand to steady him. "You know," he said weakly, "Angel's over there."

Buffy glanced down. "I know. I just... I don't want to talk to him. I feel awkward around him."

"Bloody poof," Spike muttered. "Anyway, how's your um, boyfriend."

Buffy smiled a little. "We broke up. So you don't need to get all jealous. But he gave me the information that a big fight was on it's way here. He... has connections to Wolfram and Hart."

"He's a bleeding woman stealer," Spike blurted out, and Buffy looked mildly amused.

"Are you referring to me?"

Spike shrugged. "Ran in to him once before. Took Drusilla from me, and Darla from Angelus."

"Oh." Buffy was aware of Willow looking in her direction. "Stay here, we'll find a way of getting you and Angel out of here. But first we've got to burn the dead."

"Wait! Buffy... talk to Angel," he finished lamely.

She smiled and nodded, then walked into the light. He watched as she and Willow talked. They hugged each other and Buffy wiped a tear from Willow's eye. They were still close, those two. He wondered where Harris was. Surely he would be here. Fight to the death with his best friends. It was stupid, but Spike was insanely jealous of Xander. He could spend so much time with her. If he wanted to, he could spend every minute with her.

Soon, with the dawn rays peering over the buildings, a bonfire burned in the alley. The air was filled with the smell of burning flesh. Of burning bodies. All the Slayers, Willow, Faith, Buffy, they all stood in a huddle. Illyria stood by Angel in the shadows on the far side.

"Gunn and Wesley are both dead." She stated, and Angel looked away. "I am feeling sadness for them. It hurts. Why?"

"I guess because they're your friends."

"When Wesley died... I was with him. I assumed the form of the one you call 'Fred'. I lied to him. I pretended to be her. I cried. I told him it would be ok. I said, 'We will be together'. Was that good? It felt cold, and hollow." Illyria glanced at Angel. "Wesley was my guide to this world. I don't understand it."

Angel watched the flames flicker for a while before he spoke. "Wesley was a good friend. He shouldn't have died. He didn't deserve to die."

"No." Illyria agreed, also looking at the fire. "He didn't."

"Nor Gunn. He shouldn't have fought in his condition. He was injured."

"That woman." She pointed at Buffy. "Is she a friend?"

"She was, a long time ago." Angel said sadly. "We were in love. But she's a Slayer, and I was putting her in danger. I had to leave her a few years ago."

Illyria cocked her head. "Love is a strange thing. I don't understand it. Do you still love her? Does she love you?"

"I think she does. I love her. I will never love anyone else as much as I love her. I think she feels the same. But our love is cursed. It brings nothing but pain, and I'm scared that if let myself love her, I could put her in danger, put other people in danger. It's happened before."

"I don't wish to fall in love. All it does is bring pain. I felt Fred's sadness when Wesley died. I felt it. I hated it. Love is bad. I don't understand why people love."

A voice came from behind them both. "We love because it is something special. It connects you to people." Connor emerged out of darkness. "It's not something you can control. And love can be good. It's worth the pain just to know that you are loved. Loving someone isn't about you. It's about them." He looked at Angel. "I don't know everything about you and Buffy, dad. But I know that if you love her, you should talk to her properly."

"I did that. Last year, before she took on the first. She told me she wasn't ready."

Connor smiled. "Dad, she's fought the first evil. She's dated the immortal, she's seen half the world. I think she's ready to tell you to get stuffed."

Angel smiled and punched his son lightly in the shoulder. "You're pretty wise for someone your age."

Connor shrugged. "I've had a pretty cool life. I've learnt a lot."

Angel's eyebrows rose. "your life has not been cool. It has been a mess. That was my fault. I'm sorry."

"All in the name of love, right?"

Angel sighed again. "I'm starting to agree with Illyria."

**I actually wrote this ages ago and I've just found it again so I thought I'd put it here. I don't think I'm going to continue it, I really can't be bothered, plus I don't have a clue where to go with it. So anyway, I don't care about this much, if I get enough inspirational reviews I might continue it but I don't know. Probably not.**


	2. After the storm

Buffy arranged for transport back to a large house belonging to one of Giles' acquaintances. Although it was large, they had to share rooms because of the sheer amount of Slayers. Even with half their number dead, there were at least twenty. Angel, Spike and Illyria were put in one room together, since they were the only survivors from the original LA team. They sat together in silence, Illyria staring into the large mirror, Spike and Angel gazing at the floor. None of them had even been bothered to take their coats off. Water, blood and tears dripped onto the floor steadily.

"I'm sorry guys," Angel said finally, but he got no reply. Neither Spike nor Illyria even moved to acknowledge his voice. Eventually he decided to take a shower in the bathroom next door.

Spike was lost in his own thoughts, remembering Wesley and Gunn, remembering the past year, how he had gradually been accepted by the team, how he had proved to everyone that he could be a good man. He thought of Fred, what a good person she was. You couldn't get a better person than Fred, but she'd still been taken from them. When he looked up, Illyria was looking at him, but it wasn't with those cold blue eyes. Instead, Winifred Burkle's warm brown ones looked back at him. Spike's breath caught in his throat, and he stared at her.

"Spike…" Illyria/Fred whispered. "I felt you thinking of me." Tears filled her eyes and she stepped forwards, putting a hand on his cheek. "Don't be sad. We won.

* * *

Spike shut his eyes, thinking that he was going insane once more. When he opened them again, Illyria was sitting on the chair looking out the window.

The mood downstairs was somewhatdifferent. Two fourteen year old twins, Daisy and Lily were entertaining a group of about four Slayers as they created wacky food cocktails in the kitchen. They seemed to have forgotten about their dead companions, as Lily tipped sugar in her sister's hair.

Buffy and Faith watched them with a slightly more weary attitude.

"Who are they? The twins?" asked Buffy, who hadn't met half of the Slayers before. Lily and Daisy were two that had been with Faith in Cleveland.

"Lily's the one with straight hair, and Daisy's the other one. They're twins from Ireland, both fourteen. Both excellent fighters, but they don't show it half the time. I think they're more interested in having fun," Faith replied.

"You mean they're lazy?"

"Not really, they've got enough energy between them to run NY city, but they're just not interested in Slaying. Not like Abi, for example." Faith nodded towards slightly older girl who watched Daisy and Lily from a distance. She was tall and slim, with dark brown hair and purple streaks. "Abi's from Holland, she speaks almost perfect English, and she knows every Slaying move in the book."

Buffy grinned. "Not like me then."

Faith laughed, "Ah, B, I think you did ok today."

The grin soon disappeared. "I wish that so many people didn't have to die," she said quietly. "Look at all these girl's, Faith, most of them'll be dead by the time they're our age." Her gaze travelled back to Daisy, who was now doing a surprisingly accurate impression of Giles.

"Where are they all? The girls, I mean?" Faith asked suddenly.

"Kennedy and Willow are outside somewhere in the garden. Willow's grieving, I think, which is what I should be doing really. The Slayer's rooms are all on the middle floor, maybe they're up there."

"Where are we sleeping then B?"

Buffy sighed. "There are three rooms on the top floor, I gave one to Angel, Spike and Illyria, and Dawn's in with the girls on the middle floor. So that leaves you, me, Kennedy and Willow. You and I could share, right Faith?"

Faith nodded. She and Buffy had become a lot closer over the past few weeks. Almost as close as they had once been, before Faith threw it all away. "When Giles and Andrew get here, we'll bunk with Kennedy and Willow."

"Yeah. Hey, you mind if I go and check on Angel and Spike?"

Faith shrugged. "Sure. I'll go join the kiddies," she grinned.

* * *

Buffy knocked on the door quietly, and Illyria opened it silently. The minute she stepped in the room, Buffy regretted it. The whole place was thick with depression and broodiness. What do you get when you cross two souled vampires with an Old One trapped in a mortal body, she thought dryly.

Spike and Illyria were still covered in the gunk from the battle, but Angel seemed to have showered. Spike didn't even look up when Buffy crossed to Angel's chair and he stood up. They hugged each other for a long time, and then Angel realised she was crying. He held her softly, remembering everything, remembering how much he loved her, and how much he wanted her. And now, after signing away the Shanshu, he would never be able to have her.

He thought about Spike. If he'd signed the prophecy, did that mean that Spike couldn't Shanshu either? Or was it only him that couldn't fulfil the prophecy. Either way, it would make sense.

"I'm sorry Buffy," he whispered. "You didn't have to come."

She shook her head. "I did. That was just the beginning. The war is still to come."

"What war?" Spike looked up.

"The one that will determine the fate of everything. The one where all the shades of grey fight against each other. There are no sides, not anymore. It's evil, or eviller, or even eviller." Illyria spoke, but what surprised everyone was that it was not her own voice. Fred's gentle tones filled the silence, her face looked around the room, and a heavy load rested on top of everyone.

"This is the big one, guys," Buffy said. "I know I've said that before, but this time it is. Whatever the outcome, the whole world will change."

"So who are we? If there are no sides, where do we fit into all this? Are we the good guys, the white hats?" Spike frowned.

Angel shook his head slowly. "No… nothing is pure black or white. Everything is grey, like Fr- Illyria said."

"So how do we know we're fighting for the right thing? We could be the bad guys."

"We could," Buffy replied simply.

"So what's the point?"

"The point is, we need something to fight for. I believe that what we're doing is creating a fairer world. It's us against the First, against the Wolf, the Ram and the Hart, against the senior partners, the circle of the black thorn, against the vampires… the list goes on and on. Then there's people like the Powers, who believe they're doing the right thing, but all they do is screw people around. What we need to do is create a world that doesn't have all these shades of grey." Buffy looked at everyone in turn. Angel was nodding quietly, Illyria was back to her usual self and was looking at Buffy seriously. Spike was staring at the floor. Buffy could tell he still didn't agree.

"Why do we have to fight?" he said almost inaudibly. "Haven't we done enough fighting?" his tone was one of despair and resignation.

Angel knelt in front of where Spike was sitting. "You're not giving up yet are you Spike?" He sighed and looked away from Angel.

"I don't know."

"We need you Spike!" Buffy put it. "You're not a quitter, Spike, I know you're not."

Spike looked up and they finally saw the tears on his face. "But why? We're going to lose this… war, anyway, what's the point in fighting it? All we're going to do is lose more and more friends, more and more deaths until there's only one of us left." He looked up and then added quietly, his voice cracking, "And I don't want it to be me." His eyes met Buffy. "If you died again, I don't think I could cope this time. I've lost that fire that kept me going before."

"So find it again!" Angel exclaimed.

"I can't. It's gone. And even if I could find it, what would be the point? I don't even want to anymore."

Buffy looked at Angel and Illyria. "Could you give us a moment?"

Illyria frowned. "Why?"

"Please?" Buffy turned to Angel, who took Illyria out of the room quietly. When they had gone, she stepped closer to Spike who was sitting on the bed, and knelt down in front of him. "Spike?"

He barely registered her voice.

Buffy took his hands in hers and looked up at him. "Do you remember this? I do, only it was the other way round last time."

Spike's hands were limp in hers. "You were right," he said dejectedly.

"No I wasn't! You made me see what there was to fight for, you made me believe in myself, far more that Angel ever did!"

Spike looked up when he heard those words. "More than Angel?"

"Of course." she smiled at him, feeling a lump catching in her throat. "Angel wasn't the one that brought back my confidence, you were. I trusted you – loved you – more than anyone those last few months. You were there to help me when things got difficult and I lost my fire. You relit the power in me." She held Spike's hands tighter. "Now I have to repay that debt. You're the strongest person I know, Spike. You're stronger than Angel, stronger than me."

"No I'm not," he replied. "You're the Slayer, you've faced death so many times, you've actually died a couple of times. I'm to scared to even think about you dying again. And Angel... he didn't go insane when he got his soul. He didn't-"

"Spike you asked for a soul! How many people can say they actually asked for a soul? No one. You knew what it would do to you but you still got it, because you're strong. You mustn't give up fighting Spike, not now."

Spike looked at her, kneeling at his feet, and all he could think was that she had grown so much. She was so wise and beautiful.

"Fight with us, Spike. We need you, remember?"

Spike nodded and closed his eyes with pain because of how much he loved her. "I'll follow you to the end of the earth Buffy. If you think this is worth fighting for, then it is. I won't leave you to fight alone."

Buffy smiled through watery tears clouding her eyes, and knelt up to kiss him one more time.

Buffy came downstairs a few minutes later after having told Spike to go and shower. Lily and Daisy were talking to Illyria, and attracted a crowd of onlooking Slayers, who Buffy was beginning to think the twins never went anywhere without.

Angel was talking quietly with Faith, and Buffy didn't want to disturb them. Dawn was making herself a drink in the kitchen and Buffy joined her.

"Hey Buffy," Dawn greeted brightly, turning round to lean on the side counter while she drank.

"Hi," Buffy replied. It was Dawn's birthday in a few days, she would be eighteen. Shame they couldn't have it in Rome, but Dawn seemed to be content to have her eighteenth birthday in LA. "Looking forward to your birthday?"

"Kind of. It's weird, when you're little, you always look forward to your birthday for months on end. Now I'm really kind of chilled about it."

"Huh. I know what you mean. You happy sharing with some of the girls?"

"Yeah, it's cool." Dawn sipped her drink then grinned at Buffy. "You know something? It's weird but, when we were looking for the potentials, and I wasn't one, I felt really left out. Like I wasn't special or something. But now that everyone around me – or pretty much everyone – is a Slayer, I feel more special not being one, if that makes sense."

"Yeah… I think I know what you mean."

"So, is Spike around?" Dawn asked, changing the subject. "I saw him earlier, and I have a bone to pick with that vampire." She spoke with a determined voice and a glint in her eye.

Buffy was about to answer when she heard Spike's voice behind her. "I'm here Nibblet."

Dawn's steeliness disappeared, and she ran forward, flinging her arms round Spike. "Spike!"

Spike hugged her back and then she pulled away, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him out the door to where the sun had set outside on the balcony. As they left, Buffy heard her say, "Right, pal, you've got a lotta explaining to do."

**Sorry about the length of time it has taken for me to update this. I got some positive reviews back so I figured I'd make it longer. By the way, I actually have no plot whatsoever for this, so bear with me!**


	3. Painful progression

**Hello! Long time no updates... again. As I explained in my other fic, I'm having difficulty writing at the moment, but even with exams and the like coming up, I'm hoping to get most of my fics updated regularly, hopefully even finished! I have not abandoned them, I promise. **

Two weeks later and Giles arrived with Andrew in tow. Illyria and Andrew hit it off immediately, to everyone's surprise. Giles avoided Illyria, Spike and Angel, choosing instead to bond with Buffy and the Slayers. Willow had become a surrogate mother to the younger teenagers, and Spike and Angel were, in general, spoken about but never spoken too, unless it was Buffy, Faith or Andrew. It seemed to Angel that the scoobies had lost any trust they had once had in him, and Spike was never trusted in the first place.

Not much action had been taken concerning the war – there were meeting and discussions most nights, but Angel and Spike were never invited, and they felt it unnecessary for them to attend. Things seemed to be progressing painfully slowly, and Buffy, the common denominator for them all, was often not around. So Spike and Angel went out on patrol.

Spike was all Angel had left, and vice versa. Neither of them had expected to be treated this way. They felt rejected, as if this was all one big family party, and they were the 'plus ones' that no one really paid any attention to.

A week after Giles had arrived, Angel took a trip back to the W&H offices to see what was left. What he found was a brand new office building with 'Wolfram and Hart' in expensive bold etching on the glass windows.

New employees, new directors… he wondered just how long it would be before the firm decided they wanted revenge. After all, Angel had signed the contract, and Wolfram and Hart didn't appreciate contract-breakers.

Spike met him outside the house before he went in. "Where did you go?"

"Wolfram and Hart. They've rebuilt it."

"Oh," was Spike's answer to that. "Buffy was looking for you," he mentioned casually.

"In a good way?"

He shrugged. "No idea. But I want to know what's happening. What she's been doing these past couple of weeks."

Angel frowned. "Yeah. Me too. Buffy and Illyria mentioned something about a big war, apocalyptic forces once again. Do we really have time to sit around and wait for something else to happen?"

"We're not in the loop anymore peaches," Spike reminded him quietly. "They don't trust us."

"Why should they?" was Angel's cold answer, and he went into the house ahead of Spike, who stayed outside, leaning on the fence and puffing his cigarette.

About ten minutes – and twelve cigarettes – later, Spike heard someone moving behind him. When he turned round, he saw Buffy watching him. "Hello love. Alright?"

She nodded quietly and moved down the path to talk to him. "Spike…" she began quietly, and he didn't move to interrupt her. "Giles doesn't want Angel or you involved. He's made it quite clear that he doesn't trust Angel… or you anymore."

"I know." He didn't look at her.

"I just thought I should tell you."

Spike stomped out the cigarette butt on the floor. "You don't have to. I'm not stupid." He knew he was being sharp with her and she didn't really deserve it – it wasn't her fault Giles felt that way, but she wasn't doing anything about it was she?

Buffy didn't say anything, she just sat down on the path, leaning against the fence and sighed. Spike took out another cigarette but didn't light it.

"We're having a mass funeral for everyone that died," Buffy told him. "I know it's a long time ago but… It's just a memorial to what we remember of them. It was Illyria's idea. Tomorrow."

Spike remembered Gunn's valiant fight and wished he had been there to see Wesley before he died. "Have you invited their families?"

"As many as we could get in touch with."

"Wesley and Gunn?"

"We couldn't find any contacts for their families."

Spike chewed on the unlit fag. "They shouldn't have died like this."

* * *

Angel walked in the house through the back where no one would see him enter – or at least, no one would notice him.

"Alright mate?" Someone being him said in such a perfect mimic of Spike that he turned in surprise. It was Lily. Or Daisy – one of the flower twins. He looked at her. "Er, 'Hello Lily' would be nice? Honestly, everyone's all the same over here hey…" she said with a grin – but more importantly, with an Irish accent.

"Erm… Hi."

"Great, that's a start! So, you're Angel right? Or Spike?"

Angel coughed. "Spike's the blonde one."

Lily grinned. "The sexy one."

If Angel had been drinking at that point, he would've spat it back out in disbelief… but… he didn't have a drink, so instead he just spluttered. "_WHAT?_"

Lily laughed. "I'm only messing with ya." She tilted her head slightly. "You're not so bad yourself…" She laughed again at Angel's reaction. "Lighten up. Look, I'm teaching the girls how to play poker. You want to join?" Angel hesitated. He had once been the best poker player in most of Europe, but he wasn't sure how the girls would react to him. Or indeed, if he could still play. Lily sensed the hesitation and grabbed him by the arm. "Come on." She dragged him into the room next door, where three other girls were sat around a circular table.

Angel recognised one of them as none other than Dana, the insane girl he and Spike had found and rescued. She smiled when she saw him but didn't speak. The others were a girl about sixteen with long ginger hair, and a younger dark haired girl maybe twelve years old. There were three empty spaces at the table, of which Angel and Lily took two.

"Angel," Lily said, "This is Becky, Frankie, and –"

"Dana," Angel said quietly. "Good to see you again." He couldn't believe the change she had made. Her dark hair was tied back in a plait, and she seemed completely relaxed and happy with the other girls.

"And me, don't forget me." Another Irish accent made Angel turn around. It was the other twin, Daisy. She joined them at the table and the auburn haired girl, Becky, dealt out the cards.

At first, Angel was useless, but as the game went on, he found himself relaxing and talking easily with the Slayers, and his old skill came back to him. Dana was surprisingly good at poker too, and it wasn't long before every round was Angel v. Dana.

Soon Lily and her sister got bored, and took the other Slayers somewhere else, leaving Dana alone with Angel.

Angel leant back in his chair. "So Dana. How are you?"

"I'm doing well thanks," she said quietly, in the soft, neutral voice she had spoken in all evening. "The council – and the doctors in England – have been good." She smiled, and the radiance of a true Slayer lit up her face. "I only flew out here yesterday. They didn't think I was ready."

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, then Angel held up the pack of cards. "One last game?"


End file.
